


With Respect

by Allieo_lialeo



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Angst, Bad stuff happens, Gen, Harry Lives, Hurt/Comfort, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-03-18 20:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3582087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allieo_lialeo/pseuds/Allieo_lialeo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daisy is kidnapped, and the new Arthur forbids Eggsy from aiding in the rescue mission. Eggsy's never been the obedient type. Someday, that's going to get him in serious trouble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Grounded

“Are you taking the fucking piss, Harry?”

Eggsy was shouting, standing, his palms flat against the table and his entire body angled forward, hostile, ready to pounce.

“I can assure you, Galahad,” Harry said, from his seat at the head of the table, from Arthur’s seat, “that I am most certainly not _taking the piss_.”

Eggsy lifted one hand and slammed it back down against the table, rattling Harry’s glass of scotch so forcefully that a bit of the amber liquid sloshed over the edge. “She’s my fucking sister, Harry! My _baby_ sister! She ain’t even four years old! I’m getting her back!”

“She will be retrieved, Galahad,” Harry said, a sharpness in his tone that he rarely had reason to use with Eggsy. In fact, the last time he remembered being so firm with him was before he’d left for Kentucky, when all he’d been able to feel was disappointment and all he’d been able to think was _I’m sorry, Lee, I failed you, I failed your son_.

“Retrieved?” Eggsy growled. “By who?”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “Not by you.”

Again, Eggsy’s hand came down hard. “I’m going!” he barked.

“You are _not_ ,” Harry said, and Eggsy knew a command when he heard one, but that didn’t mean he planned on obeying. “You are not permitted to step foot outside of HQ until your sister has been retrieved.”

“She’s my _sister_!” Eggsy insisted.

“That is precisely why you are not being sent to retrieve her!”

Eggsy was stunned by Harry’s raised voice, by the anger he saw in the man’s eyes—but his face revealed nothing. He’d faced worse than Harry Hart in his short lifetime. Eggsy straightened up, shoulders stiff and squared, jaw clenched. “I’m going,” he said.

Harry stood to his full, perfectly postured height. His physical therapy had been going well, and he’d long since stopped relying on a cane when he walked. He stepped close to Eggsy, an impressive figure in his impeccably tailored suit, but Eggsy didn’t even flinch. Harry wouldn’t lay a finger on him, no matter how angry he got. _Would he?_

“You’re too _close_ to this, Galahad,” Harry hissed. “The man who took your sister knows you’re an agent. You and Lancelot killed that bomber, killed his protege, and now he’s targeting you. He’s trying to draw you out. He’ll be waiting for you. He will capture you, and he will kill you.”

Eggsy leaned back. He could smell the scotch on Harry’s breath. It reminded him of Dean, and that was _wrong_ , because Harry was never, _ever_ supposed to frighten Eggsy the way Dean had. “You don’t think I’d rather die than let that bastard have my sister?”

Harry seemed to realize that he was too close, that Eggsy wasn’t someone he was meant to be intimidating. He stepped away, pretending to study one of the many portraits of past Arthurs that lined the walls. “I know very well that you would rather die,” he said. “I can’t allow that to happen. You’re too valuable to Kingsman.”

Eggsy’s fingers curled slowly, knuckles cracking as he clenched tight, trembling fists. “Daisy ain’t _disposable_.”

“I didn’t say she was,” Harry sighed. He glanced at Eggsy, regarding him with weary eyes, as if the younger man were little more than a misbehaving toddler. “Bedivere is being sent out tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow ain’t quick enough!” Eggsy snapped.

“Galahad!” Harry turned sharply, his tenuous hold on his patience visibly breaking. Every muscle was tense beneath his suit. Eggsy could see his mentor’s pulse beating in his neck, his teeth grinding together somewhere behind his lips, which were pressed thin with displeasure. “You are confined to HQ.” The words were tight, strained, clipped. “You will not be aiding in your sister’s rescue. You have no say in the matter. Report to your quarters at HQ and _stay there_ until you are instructed otherwise.”

“I ain’t a kid, Harry, you can’t _ground_ me,” Eggsy said.

“You’ll find,” Harry replied flatly, “that I can. In fact, I just have. You’re dismissed, Galahad.”

“ _Harry_!” He hated how desperate he sounded.

“You’re dismissed!” Harry took his seat at the head of the table, folding his hands primly in front of him. Every ounce of his formidable attention was fixed on Eggsy, and his entire being, from the crow’s feet at the corners of his usually kind eyes to the polished toes of his Oxfords, _screamed_ authority.

Eggsy bit back any lingering protests—of which there were many—and turned for the door. Hand on the doorknob, he paused to look back. “With respect, _Arthur_ ,” he growled. “Fuck you.” And then he stepped out into the hall and slammed the door behind him.

His feet carried him toward Fitting Room One. He pressed his hand to the mirror and took the time to collect himself during his descent, steadying his breathing, gathering his wits and his courage and convincing himself that what he was about to do was the right choice, the _only_ choice.

As he reached the bottom of the elevator shaft and stepped out into the underground, Eggsy pulled his glasses from his breast pocket and slipped them on. Just like his suit, they fit perfectly. “Merlin?” he said.

The reply was immediate. “I know, Galahad. The plane will be ready when you get here.”


	2. 39,000 Feet

“Harry isn’t pleased.”

“Course he’s not. Bastard.”

“Eggsy, he was trying to protect you.”

“She’s my sister.”

“I know.”

Eggsy looked up, staring at something just over Merlin’s shoulder, very atypical of someone who rarely shied away from confrontation. They had reached a cruising altitude of 39,000 feet, and Merlin had abandoned the cockpit to sit with Eggsy for the majority of the flight. The plane could practically fly itself; Merlin needed to focus on calming Eggsy down. Their youngest agent was on-edge, jittery, anxious, and that simply wouldn’t do for an extraction mission. Especially not one with such high stakes.

“He’s ordering me to turn the plane around,” he said.

Eggsy swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing, and then he sucked his lower lip between his teeth. It was a nervous habit that Merlin had first noticed during the recruitment phase—a dreadfully obvious tell that they were still trying to train out of him.

“Are you going to?” he asked. “Turn around?”

Merlin shook his head. “No, Eggsy. She’s your sister.” He reached out, tapping Eggsy’s chin. Eggsy took the hint, freeing his lip from his teeth and swiping at his chin with the back of his hand.

“Yeah,” he muttered, turning his head and squinting through the window at the clouds. “My sister. Why’s it so easy for you to understand, but not Harry?”

“Well, I’m smarter than Harry, first of all,” Merlin said, which earned him the first traces of a smile. “And Harry does understand. He understands, but he’s stubborn. He doesn’t want to put you at risk.”

“Nah, he’d rather put Daisy at risk,” Eggsy scoffed, crossing his arms, the fabric of his bespoke suit pulling snugly across his back and shoulders.

“No.” Merlin was firm. He watched Eggsy’s lip disappear between his teeth again, and tapped at his chin until he stopped. “He’d rather not put _anyone_ at risk, but he’s Arthur now, and he’s the one who has to make the difficult decisions.”

Eggsy met Merlin’s eyes. Harry was his mentor, yes, the man who had chosen him as a candidate, the man who had always believed in him, who had given him the medallion that was still, even at that very moment, resting against the skin of his chest beneath his flawlessly pressed white shirt. But Merlin was the man who had trained him, who had pushed him to be all that he could be, who was helping him rescue his sister instead of confining him to his quarters—and Eggsy had no idea how to express his gratitude or how to show Merlin just how much trust he’d earned from a young man who had spent most of his formative years learning _not_ to trust, _never_ to trust.

“You don’t agree with him, then?” Eggsy said.

“Hmm?”

“Harry,” Eggsy muttered. “Harry and his difficult decisions. You don’t agree, or you wouldn’t be helping me go against his orders right now.”

Merlin leaned back in his seat, taking a sip from a nearby mug. Eggsy didn’t think he’d ever seen Merlin without a mug of coffee or tea within reach. “Oh, I agree completely,” he drawled. “This is dangerous, and idiotic, and we’d be better off sending Bedivere like we’d planned. This bastard’s luring you in, and you’re going to get hurt.”

Eggsy felt a scowl fall into place, a defense mechanism that had served as a way to hide his true feelings from anyone and everyone since the day a strange, well-dressed man had brought news of his father’s death. It masked hurt and betrayal; he’d thought Merlin, at least, was on his side. “Then why the fuck are we-”

“Stop.” Merlin raised a hand, cutting him off. “We’re on this plane because I’m smarter than Harry, remember? You would have found a way to get to Daisy with or without my help. You would have gone off on your own, a one-man extraction team, and we’d be getting you back in a body bag, if we got you back at all.” He paused, taking another gulp of tea or coffee or something from his mug. “This way, I’ll be there to bail you out when everything goes tits up.”

For a long while, Eggsy just stared at him. He didn’t plan on screwing up—the mission was too important, too personal—but as long as Merlin was there, well, Eggsy would be grateful for the backup. “Daisy first,” he finally said.

Merlin set his mug aside and stood, summoned by beeping from the cockpit. He glanced down at Eggsy as he passed. “What?”

“Daisy first,” Eggsy repeated. “If it goes tits up, like you said. If you’ve got a choice, you leave me, and you get Daisy the fuck out, yeah?”

Merlin stopped, standing in the doorway to the cockpit and frowning deeply at Eggsy. “I’m not going to-”

“Daisy first,” he insisted, and just from the look in the young man’s eyes—a look Merlin had seen time after time during the recruitment process—it was clear Eggsy wouldn’t be backing down.

Merlin nodded once, decisive. “Daisy first,” he agreed. Eggsy seemed to relax, shoulders dropping, the breath pushing out of him all at once in a heavy sigh. But he sucked his lower lip between his teeth, and Merlin knew he was dreading the mission ahead. Of course he was; his sister’s life was at stake.

Merlin settled into the cockpit and put his headset on. A small, pulsing icon at the top left of his glasses reminded him that he and Eggsy weren’t the only two people privy to the goings-on. Harry had been right there with them from the start.

“Ten minutes, Galahad,” Merlin warned. “Get ready.”


	3. Daisy First

Merlin landed the plane on the main street of a small town in Spain, utterly abandoned. Any residents who hadn’t died during V-day and its aftermath had fled, leaving the town empty, the buildings quiet, windows broken, dust settling over everything. Stale, lonely air rushed into Eggsy’s lungs when he stepped out of the plane.

“Well,” Merlin said, stepping out behind him. “This is a bit...unsettling.”

“Innit though,” Eggsy agreed. He kicked at a pebble on the street with the toe of his Oxford, and watched it clatter away across the pavement. “You sure this is where that bastard’s got Daisy?”

Merlin nodded. “They were easy to track. Him and his goons aren’t exactly trying to hide. Remember, Galahad, he’s trying to lure you in. He _wants_ you to find him.”

“He’ll regret that.”

Eggsy gripped his umbrella tightly. At first, in the mountains, in Valentine’s bunker, he’d chosen the weapon because it reminded him of Harry, because some small part of him—or rather, a very large part, his entire heart, his entire _being_ —had wanted to pay homage to the mentor he’d lost. Since then, he’d grown accustomed to the weight of the umbrella in his hand, to the length, to the recoil, to the way it shielded him when bullets rained down. More often than not, Eggsy imagined it was Harry there shielding him, instead.

Merlin only hummed in response, fiddling with his glasses as he scanned the area. Eggsy fell silent, resisting his natural urge to break the quiet, his tendency toward chatter. Merlin needed to concentrate, and the sooner they found Daisy, the better.

“There’s an abandoned factory about two kilometers west of here,” Merlin finally said. “Seems to be where the signal that brought us here originated.”

“All right, then.” Eggsy had only taken three steps when Merlin grabbed his arm, pulling him back. Impatient, Eggsy wrenched his arm away, scowling at the man. He was prepared to make a fuss, but the look in Merlin’s eyes—so wary, so concerned—stopped him. “What? What is it?”

Merlin took a breath, slow, careful. “Eggsy,” he said, and the absence of his codename forced the young agent to listen. “There is going to be, with near certainty, a trap waiting for us. I can’t promise we’ll get your sister out unharmed, or even alive. I can’t even promise she’ll be alive when we get there.”  

Eggsy closed off, his eyes hardening, his knuckles white with the strength of his grip on his umbrella. Daisy wasn’t dead; she couldn’t be. Nothing in the world was more important to him than his little sister, and he refused to fail her the way he’d failed so many other people, the way he’d failed his mother, his gymnastics coach—the way he’d failed Harry Hart. Daisy was alive, and Eggsy would make sure she stayed that way, even if he breathed his very last breath in the process.

“Understood, Merlin,” Eggsy said, but he wasn’t really Eggsy anymore. Every bit of him was Galahad, a Kingsman knight with a mission to complete. He turned west, starting down the abandoned street at a near run, not willing to waste any more time. Merlin followed.

Hundreds of kilometers away, eyes fixed on the screen displaying the feed from Eggsy’s glasses, Harry watched.  

 

\----------

 

The factory had been gutted years ago. Just the frame of the building was left behind, along with a few piles of debris and a smattering of heavy, rusted chains hanging from the dark, distant ceiling.

Daisy sat on the ground. There was a bruise on her left cheek, and she’d clearly been crying. Otherwise, she appeared unharmed. While the realization soothed some of Eggsy’s concern, it did nothing to dampen his rage. The man who had taken Daisy—Burke, Merlin had said—looked rather pleased with himself, and Eggsy longed to wipe the smile off his smug face.

He couldn’t, though. He couldn’t touch Burke, not while he had the business end of a GLOCK 41 pressed against Daisy’s curly blond hair.

“Gary Unwin,” Burke drawled. “Otherwise known as Galahad, am I correct? I suppose you want your sister back.”

Eggsy said nothing, keeping his eyes fixed on his sister. On any other mission, he would’ve had some clever comeback, some cheeky remark, but he couldn’t risk irritating the enemy when Daisy’s life was on the line.

“You look angry,” Burke chuckled. “No need. I’ll let this little flower go free. Of course, you have to stay.”

“Why?” Eggsy growled. Merlin appeared at the other end of the large, empty space, gun raised, creeping forward bit by bit. Eggsy kept his expression carefully blank. For their plan to work, Merlin had to get close enough to disarm Burke so Eggsy could kill him with a quick shot between the eyes without putting Daisy at risk. “Why am I staying?”

“So I can kill you. Obviously.”

“Not if I kill you first.”

“Are you willing to bet on you being the quicker shot? The stakes are rather high.”

Eggsy’s stomach lurched violently as Burke’s finger twitched, tightening against the trigger. “Don’t,” he said. “Don’t. I’ll stay. Just don’t hurt her.” He leaned down slowly, depositing his umbrella on the ground and kicking it away.

“ _Galahad, what are you doing?_ ” That was Harry’s voice, hissing unhappily in his ear. He’d been silent until that point, meaning he thought Eggsy abandoning his weapon was a very bad move, bad enough for him to speak up about it. Eggsy wasn’t worried. Burke was just one man; Merlin could take him down without Eggsy’s help.

Months later, when Eggsy closed his eyes to attempt sleep, he would relive that next, nightmarish moment, when everything had gone wrong. He would see the ropes and cables dropping from above, the men in Kevlar vests sliding down, appearing from nowhere, as if until that moment they’d been one with the shadows gathered so deep and dark near the ceiling. He would see Merlin freeze across the room, eyes narrowed as he struggled to find a solution that didn’t leave both of them—and Daisy—dead.

The display on Eggsy’s glasses counted twenty-six hostiles, all very large, very muscular, and very armed. Twenty-six to two. The odds weren’t good, but they weren’t the worst Eggsy had ever faced.  He breathed in, counted to five, calmed himself enough to think rationally. Just as before, he only had one choice. He looked up, met Merlin’s eyes. “Daisy first,” he said, just loud enough for Merlin to hear him through the comm.

Then Eggsy lunged for his umbrella.

 

\--------

 

Burke was the first to shoot, aiming for Eggsy, leaving Daisy—her terrified wailing quickly filling the room—open. Merlin had her in his arms before any of Burke’s hired muscle could react. He pressed her close to his chest, shielding her from bullets as all twenty-six men opened fire. There was no way he could dodge them all, and he resigned himself to taking a few hits for the sake of the toddler he’d promised to save.

But then the bullets stopped, and Merlin turned just long enough to see Eggsy, umbrella open, following Merlin’s retreat with quick backward steps. Bullets pinged off the umbrella, flying off in all directions, but none broke through. Eggsy’s shield guarded the three of them all the way to the door, allowing Merlin to duck out of the building and into the sunlight, unscathed. He sprinted at least two hundred meters before he realized Eggsy wasn’t behind him.

“Galahad!” he barked. “Get out of there!”

Eggsy’s voice was in his ear, crackling through the comm. “ _I’m holding them off. Get Daisy out of here._ ”

“I’m not leaving you behind, Galahad!” Merlin snapped. “Get back to the bloody plane!”

“ _You won’t make it unless I hold them off, Merlin._ ”

“Galahad!”

“ _Daisy first!_ ”

Merlin looked down at the little girl hiding her face against his chest. Eggsy trusted him to get her to safety. Merlin was a gentleman, and that meant he was a man of his word. Swearing, he started running again. “I’m coming back for you, Galahad,” he said.

“ _Daisy first,_ ” Eggsy insisted.

“Yes, yes,” Merlin sighed. “Daisy first.” He held Daisy closer, a hand on the back of the child’s head in an attempt to quiet her sobs.

Two kilometers later, he climbed onto the plane and deposited the little girl into a seat—or tried to. She clung to him, her arms around his neck, tiny fingers gripping his jacket. Merlin gave up and dropped into the chair at his workstation, flipping out the monitors and connecting to the feed from Eggsy’s glasses, all while keeping Daisy balanced against his chest. He sucked in a sharp breath, and heard Harry swear over the comm.

The screen was blank.

“Galahad. Status, Galahad. Galahad! _Eggsy!_ ”


	4. Bare

Eggsy took out fourteen of the twenty-six men before someone managed to grab him, disarm him, wrench his arms behind his back and bring him to his knees. He just hoped he’d given Merlin enough time to get Daisy to safety. 

He expected to be killed right away, but when Burke approached him, his gun was lowered, harmless. The man crouched in front of Eggsy, an eerie smile on his face. He looked almost  _ serene _ as he reached out, slowly, to remove the glasses from Eggsy’s face with all of the care and gentility of a lover. Eggsy shivered. 

“I’m going to strip you bare, Galahad,” Burke purred. “In truth and in fiction. I’ll flay the very flesh from your bones. I can promise you that you’ve never once felt as vulnerable and utterly naked as I’m going to make you feel.” He fiddled with the glasses for a moment, pressing here and there with surprising surety, then tucked them tenderly into the front pocket of Eggsy’s suit. “Those will be useful. Your friends will be able to watch, won’t they? We’ll give them a good show.”

Eggsy opened his mouth to tell Burke to  _ piss off _ , but the words never made it past his lips. Something pinched the skin at the back of his neck, and the world went dark. 

 

\-------

 

When Eggsy next opened his eyes, he was in a dim room, a bare bulb flickering somewhere in the corner of his vision. His shoulders ached. His arms were by his ears, wrists bound with rough leather straps tied above his head, around a pipe that ran the length of the ceiling and was leaking, dripping water down the walls. Eggsy gasped in a breath. The air was humid and tasted foul on his tongue. 

A door to his right creaked open and a draft rushed in, making goosebumps rise all over his skin. It was then that he realized he was naked. A quick scan of the room revealed his suit, each article of clothing carefully folded and piled neatly on a chair, his Oxfords arranged just so on the floor beside it. The display was too pristine, too tidy in the damp, dirty little room. Eggsy scowled; he wasn’t fond of being  _ mocked _ . 

“Galahad,” Burke greeted, stepping into the room, grinning at him as if Eggsy were the most exquisite thing he’d ever seen. “I hope you’re comfortable. I’m afraid you’re going to be stuck that way for a little while. You’ll need to be, for the show.” He crossed the room, placing something atop the neat pile of Eggsy’s clothes. Eggsy didn’t see what that something was until Burke stepped away.

The glasses. Eggsy’s blood ran cold as he recalled Burke’s words.  _ Your friends will be able to watch, won’t they? _

“I thought you were going to kill me,” Eggsy challenged. He would rather be dead than let Burke toy with him, knowing the glasses would be recording every single moment like some twisted, gruesome home video. 

“Oh, I  _ am  _ going to kill you,” Burke assured. “But this technology is fascinating, and I want to have a bit of fun with it, first.” He stalked toward Eggsy, each stride confident, too confident,  _ menacing _ . With his thumb and index finger, he gripped Eggsy’s chin, forcing his head back to expose the soft, vulnerable flesh of his throat. “I want to have a bit of fun with  _ you _ , Galahad. I’ve enabled the video feed on your glasses. I’m sure it won’t take your clever friend very long to get it working again.” 

“I won’t tell you anything,” Eggsy said. “I won’t talk.”

Burke chuckled, a slimy sound that sent a bead of sweat rolling down Eggsy’s spine. “I don’t really expect you to. This is  _ personal _ , Galahad. This is about you killing my protege, ruining my plans. Why should I care about your friends?” 

Eggsy wished his glare alone would act like Valentine’s implants, enough to blow Burke’s head off. “They’re dangerous friends, bruv.” 

Burke didn’t seem at all concerned. “Kingsman, is it? I’ve already proven I can beat them.”

“You can’t. You can’t beat them.”

“I think I already have. I’ve won.  _ You _ are my prize.” 

“Fuck you,” Eggsy growled, and then tossed his head to the side. He freed his chin, caught Burke’s thumb between his teeth, and bit down  _ hard _ . He tasted blood.

The moment of defiance earned him the slam of Burke’s fist against his stomach. It was the first blow; it wouldn’t be the last. 


	5. The Show

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for torture.

“When did we lose him?” Merlin said, throwing himself into his chair at his workstation at the Kingsman headquarters.

“The feed cut out right when you reached the plane,” Harry replied. “Burke took his glasses off, and then there was nothing.”

“They disabled everything on the plane while my back was turned,” Merlin hissed. “All I had was the navigation system to get back home, otherwise I would’ve tried to get the feed from his glasses working again on the way here.” 

“Daisy?” Harry asked. 

“With her mother. They’re being guarded. Our focus is on Galahad, now.” Merlin typed furiously. Eggsy had been off their radar for the better part of three hours. Not only had the video feed from the glasses been disabled, but so had the audio, and the tracking chip. Until Merlin got the tech back online, Eggsy was lost to them. 

There was a long stretch where neither spoke, and the only sound was the clacking of Merlin’s expert fingers against his keyboard. Then, “You shouldn’t have enabled him, Merlin.”

Harry could see Merlin’s face reflected faintly in the glass of the computer monitor. Amongst the lines of code and the frustrating static of Eggsy’s video feed, he watched Merlin’s eyes narrow.

“Don’t you dare put this on me, Harry Hart. You know as well as I do that Eggsy would have gone after Daisy whether I helped him or not. At least with backup, there was a  _ chance _ of him making it back alive.” 

“But he didn’t make it back,” Harry said, the final consonant pushing hard off his palette. He was projecting anger, but Merlin knew the truth. He was scared. 

“But Daisy did,” Merlin said. “That was Eggsy’s only goal, Harry. Daisy first.”

Harry scoffed. “He’s terribly young, isn’t he?” he muttered. 

Merlin almost pointed out that muttering wasn’t gentlemanly, almost pointed out that Harry was the one who had recommended that  _ terribly young _ person for candidacy in the first place. But Merlin knew what Harry really wanted to say, what he was too reserved to say.

_ I was wrong. I drove him to this, and he could die because of me. And he’s far too young to die. _

“Yes, Harry,” Merlin agreed. “He’s terribly young.”

And then the feed from Eggsy’s glasses came back on. 

On the screen was a small room, dim, damp, made of old bricks and cement. A single, flickering bulb cast shadows on the lean, limp figure in the center of the room. The figure was strapped to the ceiling by its wrists, the balls of its feet barely brushing the stone floor. 

“ _ Shit _ ,” Harry breathed. 

A door opened on the right side of the screen, flooding the room with light. The shadows obscuring Eggsy’s body receded, giving Merlin and Harry a clear view of the bruises, of the cuts, of the blood pooling around Eggsy’s feet. The young agent—oh, he was terribly,  _ terribly  _ young—began fidgeting, trying to find a foothold to reduce the strain on his wrists. His toes kept slipping in the blood. 

“He’s been whipped,” Merlin hissed.

Harry leaned forward to get a better look, steadying himself with a hand on the back of Merlin’s chair. Eggsy’s struggling had him swaying side-to-side, turning him about to face away from the glasses. The full of his back was revealed, covered in criss-crossing, weeping welts from his broad shoulders all the way to his slim hips. 

Burke appeared through the open door, silhouetted against the bright light from the hallway. There was no preamble; he walked toward Eggsy, unfurled the whip in his hand, and struck. It was abrupt, brutal, the whip cracking across the backs of Eggsy’s thighs and tearing open a fresh gash. Eggsy grunted, his body swiveling so he was facing the glasses again. Harry and Merlin watched his face drain of color, watched his eyes tighten at the edges and his lips press thin against the urge to scream. 

Eggsy didn’t scream. After ten lashes, he still hadn’t screamed.

Harry, on the other hand, felt like screaming, and a glance down at the tense slope of Merlin’s shoulders showed that he wasn’t the only one. That was their boy, their Galahad, their  _ Eggsy _ , and both of them were desperate to vocalize the pain they saw, if only because Eggsy couldn’t,  _ wouldn’t _ , do it himself. 

“Where is he, Merlin?” Harry said, the words spat venomously through clenched teeth. “Where is he?” 

“I don’t know,” Merlin replied. “They’ve turned the video feed back on, and the audio, but not the tracking chip.” 

“Can you reboot it from here?” 

“I can try.” 

While Merlin worked, Harry kept his eyes on the screen. Burke had set the whip aside, and was circling Eggsy like a vulture. He stepped carefully around the pool of blood at his captive’s feet, which rippled with every new drop of crimson from the fresh wounds on Eggsy’s back and thighs. 

“They’re probably watching by now,” Burke said. “They’re probably watching every moment of this, and they’ve probably realized by now that they can’t find you, that they won’t be getting you back.” 

There was a quiet grumble from Eggsy’s limp form. Burke leaned in to hear him, and laughed. 

“They’re not coming. And even if they do manage to find you, you’ll be dead before they get here.”

Another grumble. Burke leaned in. His eyes flashed with irritation. “Yes, yes, I know. You’re a  _ Kingsman _ . Being clever and good with a gun doesn’t make you invincible, you know. I could take those things away from you so very easily.” 

Burke looked up, eyes fixing on Eggsy’s hands. Harry’s grip on the back of Merlin’s chair tightened. 

“In fact,” Burke continued. “I think I’ll start right now.” He reached up and grabbed hold of Eggsy’s right index finger. “One at a time, then. Let’s count. One.” 

The snap as Burke wrenched Eggsy’s finger back was sickening, and Harry almost looked away from the screen. But he didn’t; he kept watching. He owed that much to the young man he’d failed so profoundly. 

“Two,” Burke said, and broke the next finger. Eggsy bit his lip, swallowing back a scream. “Three.” Another finger broke. 

“Merlin,” Harry rasped. 

“I know,” Merlin said. “I’ve almost got it. One more minute, Harry.”

“Four.”  _ Snap _ . 

“Merlin.”

“I said one more minute!” 

“Five.”  _ SNAP _ . Eggsy screamed. 

“ _ MERLIN! _ ”  Harry bellowed.

Merlin pushed away from his workstation, jumping to his feet. “I’ve got him, Harry. We need to hurry.”


	6. Rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait!

After hours of torture, hours of pain, hours spent struggling to hold on to both hope and consciousness, Eggsy’s rescue was jarringly abrupt. His left shoulder had just been wrenched from its socket when Harry Hart appeared in the doorway and shot Burke in the back of head. Burke’s body dropped like a stone. 

It was that simple.

“Ha-” Eggsy gasped. He couldn’t finish the name. There was too much shock and too much pain. At least three ribs were broken, and every breath hurt.

Harry crept forward, gun still raised, eyes sharp, until he was certain the room was clear. Then he pressed the gun into the holster at his side and reached for Eggsy with both hands, cradling his face, thumbs sweeping gingerly across bruised cheekbones. “Galahad,” he said. “ _ Eggsy _ . I need you to look at me.” 

Eggsy tried to obey, but his eyes were unfocused. Harry’s face swam in and out, blurred. Eggsy was right on the edge of unconsciousness and drifting further and further every second. 

“Merlin,” Harry said. He sounded awfully concerned. Eggsy wanted to tell him not to worry, but all that came out were a few awkward, garbled syllables and a dribble of blood that rolled over his lips and down his chin. Harry shushed him gently.

“I need you to catch him, Arthur,” Merlin said, appearing at the corner of Eggsy’s vision and then ducking around behind him. 

As soon as Merlin was out of sight, Eggsy forgot he’d ever been there. He became just another looming figure—Burke, or one of his goons—approaching from behind with the intent to harm. Eggsy grunted and started to struggle, kicking out weakly with his legs, making his whole body sway where it hung.

“Woah,  _ woah _ !” Merlin said. “Eggsy!” 

“Eggsy,” Harry soothed, hands still on the young man’s cheeks, supporting his weary head. “Eggsy, it’s only Merlin.” Eggsy continued to kick, but Harry didn’t step back. He let the kicks land, never flinching. 

Merlin shuffled back around to stand in front of Eggsy, hands raised to show they were free of weapons. No whips, no knives, no lighters—none of the things that had been used to cause Eggsy harm in that dark, damp, cold little room. 

The moment Merlin was within Eggsy’s field of vision, the struggling and kicking stopped. 

“That’s going to be a problem,” Harry murmured. 

“Yes, it is,” Merlin agreed. “Eggsy?” He waited until the younger agent found him with his eyes. At least the panic and adrenaline seemed to have woken him up. “Eggsy, I need to reach behind you to unstrap you, all right? If you just turn your head a bit, you’ll be able to see me. Can you do that for me? Just turn your head.” 

Merlin moved slowly to stand on Eggsy’s left side, and with Harry’s help, Eggsy turned his head, keeping his eyes fixed on Merlin. 

“That’s it,” Merlin said. “Good lad. I’m going to untie you now.” He reached up, careful to stay in Eggsy’s line of sight, and unstrapped his wrists. 

The moment Eggsy’s feet hit the floor, his legs gave way beneath him, like a marionette cut from its strings. Eggsy wasn’t prepared for the drop, but Harry was. Harry caught him around the waist and pulled him forward to rest against his chest. He briefly lamented his suit; Eggsy’s blood was already beginning to stain the meticulously tailored fabric.

Eggsy whimpered, the sound muffled against Harry’s throat. Harry could feel his quick, stammering breaths, as well as the tremors running through his tense frame. Eggsy’s body was weak, but his muscles were coiled tightly against the pain. 

“I’m going to lift you, Eggsy,” Harry warned. “We’re going to take you back to HQ. You’re safe now.” He shifted his young mentee carefully, emotionless mask locked in place against Eggsy’s agonized groans. The moment called for practiced efficiency.   


“M’naked…” Eggsy gasped. 

“Yes,” Harry said, one eyebrow twitching upward. “You are.” He watched as Merlin gathered up Eggsy’s suit and glasses from a nearby chair. They didn’t have time to dress him; they needed to get him back to the plane, where his injuries could be tended to. “We have clothes for you on the plane.” 

“Okay,” Eggsy muttered. 

Harry secured one arm under Eggsy’s knees and the other across his shoulder blades, holding him close. Merlin draped Eggsy’s suit jacket over his bruised and battered body, offering him some small piece of the modesty and dignity that Burke had stripped away. Eggsy responded by curling closer to Harry’s chest, making himself smaller. 

To Harry and Merlin, the reaction was very telling; Eggsy had never been meek before, never allowed himself to show such vulnerability, and Harry wished for just a moment that he hadn’t killed Burke, just so he might have the opportunity to hurt him the way he’d hurt Eggsy, break him the way he’d broken him.

“Don’t, Arthur,” Merlin said, raising his gun and peering out into the hallway, preparing to lead them back to safety. “Don’t think like that.”

Maybe Merlin had seen it in his eyes, or maybe Merlin only knew because he’d been thinking the same thing. It hardly mattered; Merlin was right. Harry couldn’t think that way. He couldn’t let himself believe that their boy, their Eggsy, was  _ broken _ . 

Harry nodded once and followed Merlin into the hallway. The floor was lined with the bodies—some dead, some unconscious—of the men they’d fought on their way in, the men who had made the mistake of standing between them and Eggsy. The agents moved swiftly but silently. 

They eventually emerged from a large metal door in the ground, hidden in a patch of tall grass in a vast, empty field. It was a dark, crisp night, and Harry could feel Eggsy shivering as they turned for the plane, which waited for them about five-hundred meters off. 

“Lucky you,” Eggsy mumbled suddenly into Harry’s shoulder. “Getting to carry me while I’m starkers an’ all…”

It was a weak attempt at humor, but Merlin snorted, and Harry felt his lips tugging upward at the edges. No, Eggsy Unwin certainly wasn’t broken. 


	7. Blame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read and enjoyed and commented on my story, and I'm so sorry for the wait!

Eggsy lay on his side, eyes open, staring at Harry who was asleep in a chair by his bedside—and staring at the black, looming figure behind Harry, moving closer and closer every moment. _Harry!_ Eggsy wanted to scream, to warn him, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t _move_ ; he couldn’t _speak_ ; he could barely even _breathe ._

The figure kept moving closer, a black, horrible mass. The closer it came, the more paralyzed Eggsy felt. He was trapped, helpless, and the figure was stepping through Harry, reaching out for Eggsy, one black hand raised to suffocate him. Panic swept through him. Somewhere in the room, a frantic beeping raced along with the beating of his heart.

And then Merlin opened the door, and the figure dissipated like smoke, and Eggsy could move. “Harry!” he cried, the scream that had been trapped in his throat finally escaping.

Harry jerked awake and was instantly on his feet, stepping forward. His hand went to Eggsy’s hair, petting, soothing, a gesture of affection he would never dare show anyone other than the brave, strong, yet vulnerable boy he’d taken under his wing. “I’m here, Eggsy,” he said. “You’re at HQ. Breathe. Breathe for me.”

Eggsy breathed. Air rushed down his throat and forced his lungs to expand. He breathed again. The panic started to ebb. He breathed again. The frantic beeping and the beating of his heart slowed. In his peripheral vision, he saw Merlin heave a sigh of relief.

“Were you dreaming?” Harry asked.

Eggsy, still curled loosely on his side, shook his head, because even though the black, looming figure had been nightmarish, it had felt far too real to be nothing but a bad dream. “I was awake. Couldn’t move. Someone was in the room.”

“I was here,” Harry said.

“Someone else,” Eggsy murmured. “Someone bad. I couldn’t move.”

Merlin came closer, and his hand went to Eggsy’s wrist, two fingers pressing against his pulse. “Sleep paralysis,” he suggested.

“Sleep paralysis?” Eggsy echoed.

“It’s frightening,” Merlin said, “but not uncommon. You’re all right now.”

“Don’t feel so hot, bruv,” Eggsy muttered. As the adrenaline faded, he could feel the aches all over his body, dull throbbings through a haze of what he could only assume were very strong painkillers. His back felt flayed and raw—and as he lay there, he remembered the crack of the whip across his shoulders, his back, his legs. He looked down; his right hand was immobilized, wrapped tightly, the fingers splinted for proper healing. “Not sure I’m all right.”

Merlin squeezed his wrist, so gently and so briefly that Eggsy might have imagined it, and then pulled his hand away. “You will be.”

“You’ve been through quite an ordeal, Eggsy,” Harry said, his tone perfectly even and far too reasonable. It rubbed Eggsy the wrong way. “No one expects you to be all right. You will be given plenty of time to recuperate, of course, and you will receive the best in medical and psychological care, as all agents who are injured in the field do.”

“I ain’t no nutter, _Arthur_ ,” Eggsy hissed. He pushed the pain out of his mind and called forth other memories. He remembered Harry forbidding him from going after his sister. He remembered their argument, remembered growling _fuck you_ and then slamming the door.

And he remembered that he was still angry.

Harry’s eyes widened, almost imperceptibly. “Eggsy,” he said. “There’s no shame in it. This is a difficult job. You were tortured, and no one expects you to be fine right away.”

“Well, I am fine,” Eggsy said, and there was no doubt in his reply. He was fine; he _had to be_ fine, because Harry didn’t deserve to see Eggsy vulnerable anymore. “I’m fuckin’ top, so shut up about it, yeah?”

“Eggsy-”

“And if I ain’t fine, well, it’s your fuckin’ fault, innit?”

“Eggsy, please-”

“Ain’t you the one who wouldn’t let me go? So I had to go on my own, jus’ to get my little sister back. If it’d been more than jus’ me an’ Merlin, we’d’ve been all right. So it’s your fuckin’ fault.”

“Galahad,” Merlin interrupted, a smooth, authoritative warning. “You’re out of line, son.”

“Yeah?” Eggsy’s heart rate was spiking again, the monitor beeping an urgent alert. “Yeah, am I? Out of line? Disrespectful, innit? Gotta whisper my complaints in his ear, yeah? Fine.”

“ _Galahad -_ ”

Eggsy summoned what little strength he had, pushing through injury and the numbing effects of the painkillers. He propped himself up on his left arm, bracing his unbroken fingers against the mattress, and leaned forward, inching toward Harry’s personal space. “With respect, Arthur,” he whispered, little more than a furious wisp of breath, “it’s your fuckin’ fault. Get out.”

“Eggsy-” Harry tried, once more, a near desperate furrow to his brow.

“GET OUT!”

For a moment, Harry sat silent, stunned. Then he stood and left without so much as a backward glance.

“Galahad,” Merlin began to scold, but something stopped him—presumably the tears welling up in Eggsy’s troubled eyes. Merlin sighed. “Take some time to cool off. Rest. I’ll be back.” He didn’t bother waiting for a response that he knew wouldn’t come. Instead, he followed Harry into the corridor and shut the door with a hollow _click_.

Harry was leaning against the wall opposite the door, looking much older and much more worn than Merlin had ever seen him. Merlin could almost see the guilty words climbing their way up the man’s throat to his tongue, so he waited in silence. He waited for several minutes.

Finally, Harry said, “He’s right.”

  
“Well,” Merlin replied, “he’s not wrong.” He put a hand on his old friend’s shoulder and led him away with the intent of pouring him a few fingers of their strongest whiskey.


End file.
